


amongst these foreign stars.

by gavinsaleks (ohmaggies)



Category: The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pretty Much Just A Space AU, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmaggies/pseuds/gavinsaleks
Summary: '"Girlfriend?”Schmidty laughed, a bright, pretty sound that dug at Aleks’ insides, and he offered a breathless laugh in return. Like, maybe he could pretend he was joking and not genuinely curious; or that there was a reason he’d asked that even he wasn’t sure of, but maybe had to do with Schmidty’s head on his shoulder, Schmidty’s hand on his thigh.“No, man,” came the reply.'or: aleks and trevor are both with starfleet, aleks falls in love, and sacrifices are made.





	amongst these foreign stars.

**Author's Note:**

> OH WOW ! Wow. this was a very impulsive decision because I watched the star trek vr vids and couldn't help myself from writing something set in the st universe bc why not?? and because aleks got so into it, I kept picturing an au and had to fulfill my modesthd cravings and also my love of star trek. disclaimer: this is a loose au bc I haven't seen star trek in Years and the details in this are very scarce & probably not at all accurate!! also true to the show/movies, everyone's referred to by last names. aleks is marchant, james is wilson, trevor is schmidty, etc. thanks for reading !
> 
> Note: italics are for flashbacks ! (re: aleks n the moments in which he fell in love with trevor).
> 
> Also ! had to re-upload because the last one was a bit funny w dates/other stuff but w/e. enjoy! 
> 
> \- rachel.

Aleks’ shirt is loose, the material falling off his wrists, hands exposed to drift across the control panel. Behind him, his Captain is quiet, the only sounds those of his hard-working companions and an alarm blaring out across the ship.

 

He has one chance to do what he needs to, the desperation of the person’s voice making communication with them spins around his head; _“our engines and shields are down, we’ll need an immediate evacuation of all two hundred and thirty-two passengers.”_

 

He graduated from Starfleet Academy a year previous after years of study, and passed his exams well enough on the first try that they had no choice but to allow him to go out into the field. It’s hard, he knows, but he has the level-headedness needed for the job, and though most of his evacuations said he was too willing to drag himself and others into danger to save others, no one could manage Tactical better.

 

“Put the shields down,” his Captain’s voice, calm but with a lace of concern behind them, “and be ready to start beaming them in. Wilson, keep an eye on the engines, and be ready to engage at a moment’s notice.”

 

It’s the most he’s offered in terms of leadership in hours, mostly just one to offer backside praise and allow Marchant to do most of his job for him. Wilson has told him multiple times he should go for Captain; that everyone else on board would vouch for him being good at what he does, and how they could use someone like him in charge. But, Aleks knows that he couldn’t be responsible for so many people’s lives.

 

That if he fucked up and got people killed, he wouldn’t really know how to keep going after that. Someone at Starfleet had contacted him about it and he’d said no to them more times than he can count on both hands. He knows they want him, knows they know he’s good at what he does and the crew on the board trust and follow him, even when they don’t with their Captain.

 

Beside him, Schmidty is fumbling with his hand on the control panel. They’re all nervous, someone calling out that an unidentified ship is approaching, and Aleks knows the Captain will want to leave; to save his crew from danger and leave the passengers of the stranded mining ship to fend for himself. Despite a command to raise the shields, he drifts his hands across the panel to beam in the few people he can find.

 

“Marchant!”

 

“Sir,” he replies, turning briefly in his seat to meet his Captain’s eye. “Starting to beam passengers in, the full couple hundred should only take a few minutes if we can stay out of the path of the other ship.”

 

There’s a brief silence before he’s turning back, trying to latch onto the signal of the ship residents so he can start beaming. There’s a dull siren still sounding numbly in the background, and he counts down from three, the number of people needing to be saved dwindling as they’re beamed onto the ship. But, he can’t manage to get a lock on the remaining people, a hand shaking as he beams the last of those he can.

 

“I can’t latch onto the others, sir. Helm will need to take us closer so I-”

 

“Marchant,” Schmidty, looking apologetic in the corner of Aleks eye. He’s new and young, but his father is one of the most well-known Captains, which means even though he’s naive and too quick to anger, he knows what he’s doing. “The other ship will get to them before us, their shields are up and they’re coming in much faster than us. It’d be pointless.”

 

Aleks pauses, staring at the back of his hands before he turns to his Captain.

 

“Sir, if you beam me to the ship I could isolate the signal. Wilson can take over while I’m gone, I’ll stay until you’ve gotten the others.”

 

He can hear the voice of his professor from the Academy, tired and older but too fond of Aleks in the few years he was studying there- _“You can't save everyone, Marchant. And the sooner you realise that, the sooner the higher-ups will want you to be a Captain. Sometimes, being in charge means making the tough decisions, like when to abandon your ship, and when to abandon another ship.”_

 

“No fucking way,” Wilson, typically quiet and humorous but a serious tone behind his words. “You’d be dead before we could get you back, and I don’t know the first thing about beaming. We’re not doing it;  _you’re_ not doing it.”

 

“If I don’t, everyone on board will die.”

 

The bridge is quiet, the tension thick and the siren almost deafening. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d lost someone, after Aron was taken hostage and killed, and when Asher was sent on a mission someplace else and didn’t come back. There have been countless others, ones that Aleks himself didn’t know personally but well enough to notice their absence.

 

If he doesn’t come back, it wouldn’t the first time someone hasn't.

 

After a moment, he hears his Captain lean up in his chair, chewing on his bottom lip. “Could you do it? Beam there and help isolate the signal so we could rescue the others on board.”

 

Everyone watches, not saying anything, and the distant sound of those few around them working is louder than it usually is. Aleks is used to the shouting and the concern, and the sudden silence says more than it would if any of them stood up to argue or agree. No one really knows what to do, even the Captain, who has a reserved look of exhaustion on his face.

 

“I said we’re not doing it,” Wilson says, teeth gritted. “It’s a suicide mission and you know it. You go out there, you’re as good as dead. I can’t believe we’re even having this _fucking_ conversation, dude.”

 

“We’re not,” Aleks argues. “I’m doing it, and you’re going to beam me out when everyone else is onboard.”

 

Wilson watches him, a soft look of understanding clear despite his obvious objection to it. He knows Aleks better than anyone, after meeting him the first day at the Academy and sticking close to him. They were roommates for years and got assigned to the same ship, and been practically inseparable since; it makes Aleks feel almost guilty at how determined he is to throw himself into danger.

 

“Diverting power to Tactical, be ready to beam out in three minutes or you won’t have enough time,” Wilson says, looking down and doing as he says, then glancing up for a moment to look at Aleks.

 

It means ‘you better come back or I’ll kick your ass’ and ‘why can’t you just let someone else take this hit this time, why does it always have to be you?’, and, it’s not giving up, it’s giving Aleks a chance.

 

*

 

_Aleks leaned his back against the wall, legs spread out in front of him as Schmidty lowered himself down next to him. A few moments passed by before either of them said anything, Aleks playing with a loose string on his shirt and Trevor simply looking out at the view._

 

_It's always hard getting used to being in space after spending time on the solid ground, and Aleks took longer than most to adjust. Everything was different, and change is hard to get used to, even if you've experienced it for years. It makes sleeping hard, or harder, and he spends the first few days hardly resting; this time was no different._

 

_Schmidty's new, a youthful replacement for someone they lost on their last mission, and Aleks knows enough about him to recognise the last name. He met Schmidty's father in his time at the academy, and his voyages as a Captain were the talk of the Starfleet recruits for years._

 

_“You get used to it,” he said, hoping the offering of verbal comfort meant something. “The, uh- being in space, dude. I always find it harder falling asleep, most people need to get used to the ship but, sleeping’s worst for me.”_

 

_Schmidty's gaze drifted over to him, eyes childlike in wonder, and Aleks laughed softly under his breath._

 

_Everyone has the same look when they see the universe for the first time. It's surreal, after spending so many years reading about it and seeing pictures, then getting to experience it for yourself. Aleks remembers the sound of Wilson's laughter in his ear when they'd been assigned to the same ship, and his grip tight on his arm when they'd seen the stars up close._

 

_Nothing beats it- looking at the endless expanse of space and knowing it was dangerous but not caring in the moment. It was beautiful, or 'fucking awesome’ as Wilson had put it, and Aleks wanted to feel the way he'd felt then for the rest of his life. Like nothing mattered, just for a moment, and he could die there and not care as long as he got to look at it as he went._

 

_Then, years passed and people died, people he'd cared about and shared beers with after exams at the academy, people he'd known for years, and suddenly, space seemed dangerous. He had settled a hand against the cool glass and wondered how it'd try to kill him next._

 

_“Thanks, I guess I just need time to get used to it, you know?”_

 

_Schmidty is young for a recruit, everyone knows it, and everyone knows it's because of his parents. But, Aleks saw the way he'd handled himself earlier in the day and knew that no one was chosen who hadn't earned their place. And, eventually he would. Like Aleks had, and Wilson, and everyone else on board._

 

_He tugged his sleeves down and followed Schmidty’s line of vision to somewhere dark in the distance, allowing his tired eyes the small seconds to adjust. “Yeah, it's cool, dude. It's hard being alone for your first couple of weeks, I get it.” A pause. “I'm Aleks, by the way.”_

 

_“Aleks Marchant, Tactical. I know who you are, man.” And, there was a small edge behind his voice that Aleks wasn't sure was meant to imply he was impressed or if Schmidty was just familiar with the crew._

 

_“You been reading up on me or?”_

 

_Schmidty laughed, quiet and awkward, and more like a chuckle. It was small, but it lit up his whole face in ways the dull overhead lights didn't. “Nah, but we studied some of your crew’s scenarios in the academy. Pretty impressive, barely anyone passed them.”_

 

_A silence drifted between them, laughter dying down, before Aleks said,“You want my autograph, Mr Fanboy?”_

 

_Next to him, Schmidty’s face was blushed, eyes crinkled up as he looked at his lap. He was laughing, somewhat more friendly than it was before. Aleks was good at making friends, something about his charisma and warm energy, and he softly nudged the younger man beside him to get a reaction._

 

_“Shut up, dude,” Schmidty said, but his words were empty. “I’m never complimenting you again, what the fuck.”_

 

_A small flicker of a light in the distance drew their attention, and Aleks looked out at the emptiness and didn't say anything. He'd always liked space as a kid, but had been told plenty of times his chances of working for Starfleet were slim. Yet, somehow he'd made it, and somehow people knew who he was._

 

_It was a good feeling, but it still made his stomach twist in ways he couldn't comprehend. When this was all done and over, he had nothing waiting for him; he had the ship and Wilson, and neither of those things had a guaranteed permanency. Everyone who had died on board had things-_ people  _\- back home that would miss them, and the thought made his heart tighten._

 

_“The guy before me,” Schmidty voiced, “the one who died-”_

 

_Aleks’ mind supplied 'Joe, a friend’ and he let the words settle before he bothered to give a response. Asher, a friend; Anna, a friend; Lindsey, a friend; Aron, a friend. All of them, dead. Sometimes, he wishes he could say he doesn't still feel their absences every day, but he does, and Wilson does too, but they don't talk about it anymore._

 

_It's better not to, they learned that early on, and the pain gets easier to live with, but Wilson said the guilt of surviving never really goes away. That's it just one of those things you learn to tuck away, learn to deal with, and it is, but losing people always hurts. Death takes and takes, and Aleks spent too much time thinking about when the last time he'd see people would be instead of focusing on enjoying being around them._

 

_The worst thing to do when you start out is think about dying; about the dangers of space and the others living in it. Aleks understood why Schmidty asked because he wanted to, too, but it's better not to know. He learned that the hard way._

 

_“Maybe save stories of people who have died for next week?” he said, smiling at the other as he added, “If you make it to then.”_

 

_“Come on, man, that's not funny. It's my first week.”_

 

_Aleks laughed, a small, breathy sound that he knew did little to soothe Schmidty's nerves. “Don't worry about it, kid. I won't let the big, bad space men kill you.”_

 

_Schmidty looked at him, messy hair from sleep falling in his face. But, there was a softness Aleks wasn't familiar with in his expression, and he knew he was going to make a mistake, getting too close to someone again. Still, he smiled at him, and when Schmidty fell asleep against his shoulder, he didn't push him off._

 

_*_

 

“Once you're on the other ship, you'll have roughly ten minutes to reach the crew members on board and give us enough time to beam them out,” someone says, words numb in Aleks’ ears. “If you can't find them, you can communicate with Hundar and we'll get you, okay?”

 

Space is dark around them, and even though Aleks can't see it, he knows that dying up here has been something he's been scared of since his first mission. But, if he doesn't take the risk, people will die, and somehow that's more terrifying than getting lost in the universe.

 

“If you can't get them, you come back, okay?” Wilson, hands tight on either side of Aleks’ shoulders, wisps of messy hair in his face. He looks worried, and his next words only serve to remind Aleks of what he's doing here, to his friend, and that he might not come back alive.

 

 “Don't be a hero, Aleksandr.”

 

He nods, Wilson's face close and features tight. It feels like the first time he left the ship and Wilson had to stay behind, and how terrified they'd been that Aleks wasn't going to come back. After time, they got used to losing people, but never each other. Because, Aleks always came back. Because, if he didn't, Wilson would've gone out to get him.

 

Over Wilson's shoulder, he can see Schmidty hovering in the doorway, looking at the exchange. It clenches his heart, and Wilson turns to see him and backs off a little, but he's still close.

 

Aleks stares, waits for Schmidty to come hug him or say goodbye, or do anything other than stare like simply being in the room hurt. Maybe it did; maybe he was thinking about all the people who left the ship and came back injured or didn’t come back at all.

 

Aleks isn't sure he can live with the guilt of being the reason for the look on Schmidty's face.

 

“Three minutes until beam!” the stranger, leaning over the control panel, trying to get a solid enough lock on the other ship that Aleks will be sent through to the main corridors, where the least damage is.

 

Schmidty takes the few awkward steps forward, Wilson with his arms folded over his chest trying to pretend he's not watching, and Aleks is still. There's a weapon tucked into his waistband, his Captain's warnings bouncing around his head, and he suddenly wants nothing more than for this to be over.

 

“I hate this,” Schmidty says, voice quiet, head facing down. “I hate that you're doing this.”

 

There's a rare openness in the words, something Aleks isn't used to, and he reaches a shaky hand out to ruffle Schmidty's hair. They got drunk a few months ago and dyed each other's hair, and Wilson had laughed so hard he'd cried when he had gotten the 'please come to my place, I'm blonde’ call.

 

The memory triggers a warm feeling, Aleks’ cheeks flushed with fondness, and Schmidty looks up at him, his disappointed and concern clouding his features. He looks tired, more than he should at his age, and Aleks, not for the first time, feels guilty.

 

He's protected his crew from everything, he's protected  _Schmidty_ from everything, but he can't protect them from this. Couldn't even if he tried.

 

“One minute until we're ready!”

 

Wilson is standing off to the side, arms hugged around his middle, and, in front of Aleks, Schmidty is staring at his feet. It'll be a long trip to the other ship to find the people on board, at the least almost a hundred lives he's responsible for, and this time more than the others, it feels like he won't come back.

 

Eventually your luck has to run out sometime; eventually, you stop getting chances and the universe decides your time is up.

 

Aleks takes a few steps back, adjusting his suit, and he glances at Wilson, his best friend, who has his arms across his chest. He has this look like he can't believe this is happening but knows he can't stop it, and the resigned lack of confidence is clear. And, they meet eyes and he doesn't offer a smile, just shuffles his weight to his other foot.

 

Schmidty is standing at least a metre away, gaze focused on Aleks, and Aleks wants to reach out to him like he did with Wilson, but knows he can't. That, even if he could, he's not sure he would; he doesn't want to treat this like the last time they'll see each other because it won't be. It  _can't_ be.

 

“Ten, nine, eight, seven-”

 

The countdown is quiet under the sound of his own anxious heart thumping, but he can hear well enough to know he only has five seconds before he's on the other ship. Five seconds to look at his friend and at Schmidty, and try not to focus on this maybe being the last time he'll ever see them.

 

“Three, two-”

 

He's running out of time.

 

Wilson has his head down but turned to the side enough to see Schmidty, taking one step forward, and how hard his hands are shaking when he takes another step towards Aleks like he can stop him from leaving.

 

“I lo-” Schmidty’s voice, loud in his ears.

 

The next sound Aleks hears is of a dying ship; grating metal, the groans of a dead engine, the panicked screaming coming from every direction. Out the window in front of him, he can see his ship, his home, and stumbles off his feet as the ship lurches to the side.

 

*

 

_“The Captain said to get ready to warp,” Aleks near shouted, voice barely heard above the sound of the alarm, and the orders being yelled across them from crew member to crew member._

 

_It was one of those days, where they were all tired and hardly functioning on a few hours of sleep, and it would be a while longer until they could let their guard down. The shields were dropping, a ship with malicious intent on their trail, and around him, Aleks could feel the stress thick in the air._

 

_“We're warping, boys!”_

 

_Schmidty, hair growing long and falling in his face, slightly better at raising his voice above the background noises. People listen to Aleks so he doesn't need to, but Schmidty was still relatively new and it showed; in his slow movements, in how late he was to get to the bridge, among other things._

 

_There are only so many times Aleks could cover for him, considering the fact they were barely friends and had only spoken once. Aleks himself wasn't even sure why he did, if it's because he knew what it was like being the young, dumb recruit, or if it was something else._

 

_Something, like, Schmidty knowing who he was, praising him for things that could easily be credited to the whole crew. Not something, like, memories of a head on his shoulder and space in front of them, and unknown warmth in his chest._

 

_On his right, Wilson was exchanging quiet words with a woman who sat in front of him. Aleks hadn't spoken to her before, but she offered a kind smile when they passed each other, and they spent a lot of time together whether they wanted to or not. She was part of the crew, that was enough for him._

 

_“Permission to use phasers?” Aleks said, already hovering his hand over it. He waited the few seconds for a confirmation from his Captain, then, “Phasers on, ready to launch, sir!”_

 

_They were in a dangerous part of space, somewhere he knew like a map from years of study but not somewhere he'd ever been before. They escaped one danger and managed to get themselves into another; they warp away from one ship shooting at them only to run into another one doing the exact same._

 

_Schmidty barely managed to move them out of the way of an explosion, though it still made contact with the far side of the ship. Aleks was nearly thrown from his seat, his unsure 'oh, shit’ catching Schmidty's attention for long enough that the Captain was forced to yell at him to focus on steering._

 

_“Schmidty, can you-” Wilson started, the aggravation in his voice clear._

 

_“It's fine, dude,” Aleks interrupted. “It was my fault, focus on diverting more power to the shields.”_

 

_Schmidty warped them out of the path of danger, the warning alarm slowly disappearing, and Aleks could almost feel Wilson staring at the back of his head. Either because he needed a haircut, which was obvious from the hair curling around his ears, or because he'd defended someone that Wilson was ready to yell at._

 

_Their crew didn't work in the best team environment, not by a long shot, but they made things work around the yelling and dysfunction, and Aleks was grateful for that at least._

 

_The Captain let them go, for dinner and rest, and said they'd hopefully be back home by the afternoon the next day. It was a near empty promise, but Aleks was desperate for rest and not one to unnecessarily argue._

 

_Schmidty found him later that night on the bridge, standing awkwardly for a couple of minutes before lowering himself down next to him. It felt like the first time they'd spoken, and like that time, Aleks had trouble sleeping. He always had trouble getting rest, but this time felt different for reasons he didn't know._

 

_“Thanks,” Schmidty said, hair longer than the buzzcut he'd had when he'd first arrived onboard, “for sticking up for me today. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it.”_

 

_His hair looked nice like that, Aleks remembers thinking. Long and brown, and the slightest hint of stubble on his face. It suited him, made him look older and more mature, and more like the photos Aleks had seen of his dad. Old photos, ones in books he'd borrow for study or for light reading, that were of Schmidty’s dad when he was much younger._

 

_Schmidty had been around for a few months but he was still new; would be until someone else came on board because that's how being the new guy worked. Their last Helm operator had died when the ship had been boarded by malicious individuals, and Aleks still remembers finding him bleeding out on the floor._

 

_Wilson had found him not long after, shaking hands bloodied against the corpse and yellow shirt stained red. They'd lost people before, so many times, but seeing it happen, having them breathe their last breath in front of you, was worse._

 

_Against him, Schmidty's side was warm, head titled to stare at his lap. It felt like the only times they spoke were when no one else was around, and when they were both somehow too tired to sleep that sitting together was the only option. Aleks didn't mind, but some part wished that it was different._

 

_“People are assholes,” he offered tiredly, eyes closed as he leaned his head back. “Don't let it get to you.”_

 

_Schmidty laughed, breathy and soft, and Aleks knew what it meant. That, he felt he was lucky and not talented, that it felt like the constant picking on and underestimating would last forever. People would constantly look at him like they didn't know what he was, or how he'd gotten the academy if his dad didn't help._

 

_“You try,” Aleks said, suddenly. He turned to look at Schmidty, felt the way his heart gave a loud thud when they met gazes. “And, you have a great work ethic, it's pretty impressive.”_

 

_There was a brief pause before Schmidty nodded, a small smile appearing that was quickly driven away by a yawn. It must've been at least one in the morning back home, but space time always seemed non-existent. Almost like they had all the time in the world, if they wanted._

 

_Aleks knew they didn't, knew that five minutes home was five minutes on the ship. But, it didn't seem like it. Next to Schmidty, especially, everything seemed to go to a standstill._

 

_“Yeah.”_

 

_Schmidty, a slight pink tinge in his cheeks, and a hand accidentally brushing Aleks’ thigh. It was weird, not minding the sensation, not making an effort to move away like he would jokingly do with Wilson._

 

_Aleks tried not to think about it, really tried, but Schmidty muttered something about it being cold and autonomously shuffled closer, and Aleks was gone._

 

_*_

 

The ship is dark, the fluttering of dying electricity illuminating the halls to show Aleks where to go, but he still doesn't know this ship well enough to find his way. His head hurts from where he hit it against the wall when the ship had lurched to the side suddenly, and his left ear rings.

 

Through the glass, he can see his  _home_ , the ship he knows better than anything else, and doesn't want to think about not getting to see it again.

 

Behind it, a slightly smaller ship, getting closer by the second.

 

Aleks knows he's running out of time, can feel the air around him get thick and tight, and can hear the desperate screams in the distance. It sounds like a woman, or maybe a couple of them, and he places a hand against the ship's interior to settle himself.

 

The ground shakes beneath him, and his weapon is rattling against his hip, and he wonders if this is how Asher felt before he died. If he kept thinking about home, about the people waiting aboard the ship waiting for him to come back, and that there was a possibility they would waste hours hoping he'd come back even after he didn't.

 

And, when Aron had been taken with them having a slim chance of getting him back. They tried until they couldn't, and Wilson had sat resigned behind Aleks, the entire crew silent as life continued around them.

 

They'd heard Aron’s screaming through the comms and then it had gone silent, Anna unable to reach him, and Aleks can't remember ever being so angry in his life as he had the moment they'd lost contact. Then, the Captain, telling Helm to warp them away while Wilson tried to argue.

 

Aleks slammed his hands against the table and yelled, and when he'd stormed out of the room, no one had followed. Even though they needed him, even though he was their friend and he had left them to go sulk in his room.

 

Schmidty had shown up three days later, a young replacement from a good family, and Aleks hadn't paid much attention to him at first, too caught up in his own grief. It felt wrong finding replacements so soon and sudden, but Schmidty tried, and Aleks warmed up to him quick.

 

Schmidty, who's on board their ship and waiting for Aleks to return. And Aleks, who might not, stumbling his way through the engine room. It's hot, smoke swarming in the beams of light through the ceiling, but he pushes forward, and can hear a voice shout at him.

 

There are at least fifteen people, huddled around a tank and moving around, and he makes his way toward them, holding a hand out to tell them to hold still, when they're beamed out. He's left staring at the blank of the dying ship, and coughs into his elbow as the smoke filters through his lungs.

 

“Hey!”

 

He shields his vision as he walks through the soft flames, trying to protect his eyes from the light and heat. Thirty people, scattered around the room trying to make repairs to something they can't fix, and Aleks’ voice is nearly deafened by the sounds.

 

“Stay still! We're beaming you out.”

 

His feet clumsy slide back, to get himself away from them so he doesn't get beamed with them, and he squints, watching them fade to nothing before him. It's a small victory, worth celebrating for a moment before he's reminded that he's barely halfway through the people needing to be saved.

 

The ship is falling apart around him, and he thinks of Wilson and Schmidty, and he just wants to go home. More than anything, he wants to be back with them.

 

He wants to go home.

 

*

 

_Schmidty had been off all day, not bothering to move his hair from his face or offer much in the way of conversation other than arguing Wilson. Aleks was the mediator, as always, and his 'it’s no one's fault, stop’ had quietened them both._

 

_Wilson wasn't mad, just kept looking at Aleks like he couldn't quite understand why he hadn't taken his side. Because, he did every time, no matter who he was arguing with, and maybe Aleks had warmed up too much to Schmidty to pile the blame on him. Or, make him feel guilty for a stupid mistake._

 

_It was later, after a quiet day on board, and Aleks’ head was spinning too much with overthinking for him to sleep._

 

_Wilson was asleep next to him, still fully clothed and his hair fanning his face, and Aleks didn't want to wake him because he'd earned his rest. The days where nothing happened were the worst; made them all too tense to relax, knowing tomorrow would bring chaos. But, James slept easy no matter what; Aleks never did, even on the good days._

 

_He tugged a sweater over his head, ruffling his dark hair, and left the room. People were still working, making repairs to the hull and the engines from damage they'd taken the other day, and Aleks made his way to a small pane of glass in the ship where he could see through to the expanse of space._

 

_The stars looked nice from there, bright and far away, and he wanted, suddenly, to be closer to them. He’d read that they were hot-_ burning  _\- and all too often, curiosity over logic ruled his mind._

 

_There were footsteps behind him then a hesitant presence beside him, and he can tell in the corner of his vision that it was Schmidty._

 

_He was still dressed in his normal clothes but with a warm jacket over the top, and his hair looked mused like he’d been tossing and turning to try and sleep but had failed. Aleks knew the feeling too well; wanted to ask if the other was okay but wasn’t sure how to find the words. If it was Wilson, he’d just ask. Everything felt different with Schmidty, for reasons Aleks couldn’t decipher._

 

_“Can’t sleep again?” Schmidty asked, tucking his cold hands into his pockets._

 

_Aleks could see him staring at him, trying to be subtle with his glance but failing. And, Aleks didn’t mind. Just wished Schmidty could look at him without being afraid, without worrying about what Aleks might say if he caught him watching him like that._

 

_He turned his head to look at him, tilting upwards to catch his gaze. They were standing close, with the lack of distance between them, but Aleks shivered in his jumper and his thin pants, and wanted to get closer. He knew he couldn’t, knew friends- if that’s what they were, if they were anything more than just coworkers- didn’t do that, but it was cold, and logic tended to fail him at the best of times._

 

_“Yeah,” he voiced, moving back to stare at the void of space, a hand moving to push his hair from his forehead. “Kinda hard to fall asleep when your bunkmate won’t stop snoring.”_

 

_Schmidty nodded at the obvious lie, watching something in the distance like he wanted to say something but didn’t know what. Aleks knew the feeling too well, the unsure awkwardness of unsaid words, and tried to focus on an object in the distance instead of the silence growing between them._

 

_“I miss home, I think.”_

 

_Aleks nodded, resting a hand against the cold glass for a moment. He remembered how homesick he’d been for the first few months, and how having Wilson had helped. It was the familiarity of his presence, the silent ‘we’ll be okay’ that drifted between them, and eventually the ship became home; the ship, and Wilson._

 

_“Your parents?”_

 

_“Yeah, a little.”_

 

_Aleks swallowed, curling his hand as he put it against the glass again, focusing on that instead of what he really wanted to ask. There was a beat where he almost convinced himself not to ask, even though he wanted to, because they weren’t friends and it wasn’t his business. Still, his heart stopped dead in his chest when he asked, “Girlfriend?”_

 

_Schmidty laughed, a bright, pretty sound that dug at Aleks’ insides, and he offered a breathless laugh in return. Like, maybe he could pretend he was joking and not genuinely curious; or that there was a reason he’d asked that even he wasn’t sure of, but maybe had to do with Schmidty’s head on his shoulder, Schmidty’s hand on his thigh._

 

_“No, man,” came the reply. “I miss fried chicken, and- and not worrying about dying. Or losing people. I- sorry.”_

 

_“You don’t have to apologise, I miss all that, too. But, you get used to it, even if you don’t think you will; give yourself some time, dude.”_

 

_“It's just… I didn't think it was going to be like this, you know?” Trevor whispers, disappointment and homesickness clear in his voice. “My dad talks about it like it's the best thing that's ever happened to him, and I get up here and it's not. It's not, dude.”_

_Aleks shrugged and stayed silent, focused on Schmidty's words and not anything else. He had been enamoured with space since he saw it, and he can't replicate the joy he'd felt seeing it for the first time. But, it's not the same for everyone. Wilson stays because he likes the adventure, the meeting new people and seeing new planets._

_Schmidty just needed a reason to stay, that's all, Aleks thought. He needed friends or to fall in love with space, or to find a job he liked that maybe wasn't at the helm. Being there wasn't for everyone, and eventually he'd realise that._

_“What's your name?” Aleks asked, suddenly. Turning to look at Schmidty, whose attention was still someplace else but slowly coming to._

_“Trevor.”_

_Aleks smiled, soft and sincere, and Trevor lowered his head with a laugh when Aleks said, “You look like a Trevor.”_

_“Yeah?” Trevor managed, the pink of a blush on his cheeks._

_  
_“Yeah.”_ _

 

__*_ _

 

He's running out of time, he knows. There's smoke filling the ship and his lungs, and he can hear screaming too far away to reach. It feels like giving up, the way he glances around, but he won't leave; wouldn't ever think about going home without saving the few people left onboard.

__

“I'm coming!” he yells to no one in particular, and he can tell without checking the time that he only has a few minutes before the ship's engine gives out and it dies. Or, until it gives and he dies in the explosion.

__

Aleks can count thirteen people against the wall, those still trying to save the corpse of the ship like they're happy enough to die here. He admires the resilience, knows he would do the same if his ship ever faced a similar problem, but they're not focused on him.

__

“Hold still!” he calls out, watching the way their heads move to the side to glance at him, before they're gone and he's alone.

__

He's not even sure who's beaming them out, but as soon as he manages to get the passengers to stop moving, they're beamed out immediately. It's impressive, he's the resident beamer onboard his own ship and he knows how hard it is sometimes; can't imagine having to do it without experience.

__

The screaming has stopped, the only noise that of a creaking and failing engine, and he slumps against the nearest wall. He's tired, and coughing into his palm, and his comms went out when he beamed over so he can't make contact to let his crew know everyone's been saved but him.

__

The device crackles uneasily in his ear then dies, and he wants to rip it out but doesn't. Maybe a small part of him is waiting for Schmidty's voice to come over the line telling him he's going to be okay, that he saved everyone and now they're going to save him.

__

No voices come, just the telltale whine of an engine coming to a standstill, and an explosion nearby that rocks the ground beneath him.

__

He covers his face with one cold thought in his mind: he's going to die here.

__

*

__

_Schmidty had an arm around Aleks’ shoulders, fading blonde hair in his face. Around them, the crew sat in silence, Wilson with his head in his hands, hair loose and falling around his neck. Everything was silent, everyone was still, and Aleks felt the press of the cold wall against his back, and Schmidty sitting close._

 

_“Shields, Wilson?” The Captain asked, leaning forward in his chair as he looked at the lay of space before them._

 

_“Shields are-” Wilson tried, moving slowly to move back to where he had been before. His eyes were distant, eyes red, and Aleks could tell from the forced look on his face that he was trying to be okay. “Shields are up and the other ship is retreating, we should get ready for warp.”_

 

_Schmidty shifted beside Aleks, the hand he had on him tightening. After what had happened, they'd all been quiet, and Aleks had left the room to find Anna only for it to be too late. Three people were dead, her amongst them, and he'd practically fell back into the room when he'd seen his crew._

 

_Wilson had a look on his face like he knew, and he closed his eyes when Aleks managed to say, “Anna, it was Anna.”_

 

_They'd all frozen, the Captain still trying to shout lazy orders to a room of people whose lives had stopped. Aleks was still on the floor, pulling himself up to sit against the wall, and Schmidty stumbled over to him. Sat so close their sides were burning, softly slid his arm around his neck. He put his head on Aleks’ shoulder, and Aleks leaned into the warmth of the touch._

 

_He wasn't sure he'd be able to move away even if he tried, closing his eyes and focusing on Schmidty instead of what had happened. She was gone, like so many people before, and if it wasn't for his cold back and Schmidty's warm breath on his neck, Aleks would feel completely numb._

 

_“It was my fault,” was soft and whispered, mumbled against Aleks’ shirt. “It was all my fault.”_

 

_Aleks knew it wasn't true, managed a watery 'no,’ and a sound that was meant to be reassuring. It wasn't what he wanted to say, or said the way he wished it was, but he was scared of speaking. He remembered how numb he'd felt when Asher had died, could recall his anger and screaming when Aron died, and it was all he could think about._

 

_He opened his eyes and smoothed a hand through Schmidty's hair, concentrated on this boy shaking and crying in his arms. They'd all made mistakes; Aleks had been clumsy with the phasers, Schmidty had been too slow to dodge a shot, the Captain was barely a Captain._

 

_Wilson, who had been staring, met Aleks’ gaze, the heartbreak he felt reflected in the other's eyes. “It was those fuckers, none of us.”_

 

_“Man, it was me, it was-”_

 

_Aleks tightened his grip, trying hard not to focus on the sight of his dead friend, on how useless he'd been to save her. Schmidty was shivering, either from the cold or because he was crying, and Aleks put his head against his, closing his eyes against his hair._

 

_“It wasn't us, Trev. It wasn't us, okay?”_

 

_The bridge was quiet, someone from outside the room sliding in to take over for Schmidty, another for Aleks, and a solemn silence overtook the room. They could hear the muted voices of people in another part of the ship, Aleks whispering into Schmidty's hair, Schmidty crying against Aleks._

 

_And, the Captain's voice, tired but surprisingly sympathetic: “Marchant, Schmidty, you've been dismissed for the rest of the day.”_

 

_Wilson looked at them, the sight of their bodies on the floor, backs against the wall, and gave a small nod. It meant he was okay on his own- that he'd find Aleks later when he wasn't needed- and he should take Schmidty and go._

 

_Aleks wasn't sure how, but he managed to stand up, Schmidty still sniffling in his arms. He knew they were a mess, knew they were tangled together and crying, and wasn't sure how they would ever really get past it._

 

_Experiencing your first onboard death is something that sticks with you, gives you nightmares and guilt, and it feels like the feeling won't ever go away but eventually it does. In a few weeks, Schmidty will laugh and it'd be like it hadn't happened at all, and in the moment, Aleks wanted that day more than anything._

 

_“C’mon, try and work with me here,” he said, trying not to focus on the chaos still happening around them._

 

_Trevor's hair was still light from where they'd gotten drunk and dyed it, and Aleks stared at it, heart tightening. It could've been any of them that had died, it really could've been, and at the thought, his legs stopped working. He couldn't walk, breaths uneven as he stood in place, and Schmidty looked up at him confused._

 

_“Aleks?”_

 

_“It could've been you.”_

 

_Schmidty watched him, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and suddenly, Aleks couldn't breathe. “What?” he managed, voice quiet and unsure._

 

_“You could've died, I-”_

 

_Schmidty's hand moved from around his neck, separating them for a distance enough that Aleks found his hand moving to press against Schmidty's cheek. He still couldn't breathe, couldn't focus on much else but how close he'd been to losing him, and for a moment, nothing else mattered._

 

_“I'm okay, I'm fine. I'm right here, man, I'm alive.”_

 

_“Yeah, I know. It's just, I was…”_

 

_Unspoken: worried about losing you because I don't know what I would've done. Or, thinking about how easily you could die someday and I won't be able to do anything about it._

 

_“I'm not going anywhere,” Schmidty whispered, and his voice was sure enough that Aleks felt his heart start beating in his chest again. “I'll always be right here, Aleks.”_

 

_“Trevor-”_

 

_“Always right here.”_

 

*

 

Aleksandr Marchant always knew he was going to die in space. He knew the moment he saw it and was close enough to almost touch it, and could tell one day it would swallow him whole like it had to so many before him.

 

He's seen the way it takes and takes, and knows well that too many people leave and don't come back. They die or decide it isn't for them, and Aleks doesn't see them again. He tries not to think about it because Wilson told him that was easier; ignore that they're gone and focus on living, on the ship, on the people still left to love.

 

Aleks presses himself against a wall, coughs into the open air, feels the way the smoke steals the oxygen. He can't remember the last time he gave up, because he doesn't like knowing he failed when he could've kept trying. It's part of why he's here, part of why he left Schmidty and Wilson behind, part of why he knows he'd do it again if he had the choice.

 

A hundred lives saved because he helped, and his life in exchange feels like a small price to pay. Even if he's scared and knows the chance of being rescued is too small, and settles against the wall with his heart in his throat.

 

He remembers Trevor, trying to speak to him when it was too late, and how his hair is getting brown and they'll need to dye it again. He remembers his warm hands, his warm breath, his lips close enough to kiss, and Aleks’ own 'I love you’ trapped in his mouth.

 

The comm device in his ear crackles, then he can hear the ghost of words breaking through.

 

“Marchant? You need… he'll…”

 

He closes his eyes tight and stands up, the floor of the ship unsteady and shaking beneath him. When he opens his eyes next, he's standing in front of Wilson, and his own ship is around him, warm and familiar. Relief swarms, and he can hear the dull of Wilson's voice asking if he's okay, before his legs give out beneath him and he's falling.

 

Always falling.

 

*

There's a bed underneath him, warm and comfortable against his back, and he can hear the sound of a machine to his right. The room is bright, and the telltale smell of the medbay invading his nose, and he barely manages to open his eyes against the blinding white.

 

“Welcome back,” Wilson says.

 

Aleks looks at him, offering a weak smile, and he can see Schmidty asleep on Wilson's shoulder. It's nice to see them close, he thinks, and rasps a hello.

 

His throat is still raw from the smoke and his stomach is still churning with motion sickness, but he leans up anyway. It takes a small effort to lift himself, noticing Wilson's eyes on him the whole time; concern, as well as relief, is easily read upon his face.

 

“How long?” Aleks rasps, blood returning to his head.

 

“Ten hours, he's been asleep for the past hour. I told him I'd wake him if you got up but I want to let him rest.”

 

Schmidty is peaceful, an arm on Wilson and his head on him as he sleeps. There's a moment where Aleks feels guilty, because he knows this is probably the most sleep he's gotten since he started on the ship and it was while Aleks was maybe dying.

 

“How is he?”

 

“How are  _you_?”

 

Aleks smiles against his will, knowing that with Wilson his question is genuine. He's exhausted, eyebags a dead giveaway, but it's the Wilson that Aleks met seven years ago and it's a good feeling to be back here with him. Like, Aleks thought he never would be.

 

“I'm fine, James,” he answers.

 

He tries to be flippant about it like he's tired of being asked, but he catches his reflection and realises he looks far from being even just okay. He's a mess, even though the medics did their best at cleaning up the ship wreckage that was permeating him.

 

“You scared the hell out of me, Aleksandr.”

 

His words are whispered- scared- and Aleks wants to reach out to him more than anything. But, he's sore and hooked up to the machine, and Schmidty is stirring half asleep against Wilson. They were both scared, and Aleks has to stop doing things like this because the hurt look on Wilson's face is killing him.

 

“I know.”

 

*

 

_Schmidty was close enough to Aleks’ side that he could feel the warmth of his skin against him, and considered for a few moments moving closer so he wouldn't be so cold. It was freezing, the engines busy fixing the internal heating in their rooms, and Aleks froze when Schmidty spoke to him._

 

_“You want my jacket?”_

 

_It was a dirty green, almost brown, and Schmidty worn it almost every night when he couldn't sleep. It looked comfortable, and he had a serious tinge in his eye, but Aleks could only shake his head. His voice was shaky when he said, “I'm good.”_

 

_Schmidty's eyes were wide, childlike almost, and Aleks couldn't turn away once he met his gaze. “You sure?”_

 

_“Yeah, I'm going to fall asleep soon, anyway,” he answered, still not moving away even when Schmidty gets closer. Whether he meant to or not, Aleks’ gaze traveled down and he couldn’t figure out exactly what he was thinking but he knew it was a bad idea._

 

_“Dude,” Schmidty laughed. “What's that look for?”_

 

_There was a second where Aleks’ breath felt halted in his throat, then he moved forward, using his arm to gain the momentum to lean up. Schmidty didn't move away, but he didn't move forward either, and Aleks wanted the ground to open up and swallow him._

 

_Schmidty's lips were warm, still, but warm, and the scratch of his beard was unfamiliar against Aleks’ face. It was a short kiss, and Aleks wanted to get up and walk away when he moved back, Schmidty's face void of any giveaway emotion._

 

_“Sorry, I shouldn't have-”_

 

_Schmidty cut him off, fingers soft against Aleks’ cheek as he moved in, and for a second, Aleks didn't know what to do. It was soft, much softer than the first, and Aleks managed to move a hand to push at Schmidty's hair._

 

_When they finally parted, Schmidty's hand lingering hot on Aleks’ cheek, eyes wide and uncertain, Aleks kept his hand in his hair. It was nice, being so close, and he thought about the hand on his cheek, the kiss, and laughed silently._

 

_“Okay?”_

 

_“Yeah, yeah,” Aleks smiled, “definitely okay, man.”_

 

_*_

He doesn't see Schmidty for another day, after he falls asleep and wakes up alone sometime early in the morning. Wilson comes by to check on him, and they exchange a small, tight hug, before Wilson leaves to find Schmidty.

 

Aleks doesn't have to ask, just glances at the doorway too many times and Wilson leaves, returning a few minutes later with Schmidty in tow. There's a moment where neither of them move, feet rooted to the spot beneath them, and Aleks wants nothing more than to run forward.

 

“Miss me?” he says, voice breaking.

 

Trevor is the only person Aleks can remember ever loving this much, and if his heart belongs to him, he's fine with it. Just as long as Trevor is gentle and kind with it, he can keep it for the rest of his life. No complaints; truth be told, Aleks wonders how long he's held Trevor's heart, and vice versa, and if either of them were even aware of it happening.

 

When Aleks looks at Trevor next, his lips are twisted in a smile, watery eyes blinking away tears. Aleks steps towards him, pulling him in for a hug that is warm and cold at the same time.

 

In his arms, Trevor is still shaking but his exhales are warm on Aleks’ neck, hands grabbing unsurely yet desperately at Aleks all at once. It feel nice, to be so close to someone he wasn't sure he'd ever see again- to be close to someone he's been in love with for months but has been too afraid to tell.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, on tiptoes to reach up on Schmidty, voice more breath than words. “I, uh- I should've said it before but I love you.”

 

“You heard me?”

 

Aleks’ heart skips a beat as he nods awkwardly against Schmidty's shoulder, remembering the hand reaching for him and the words he'd heard half uttered before he'd been beamed to the other ship.

 

“Your timing was a little off, but, yeah. I heard you, and I wanted to say it back but it was too late.”

 

“Too late now?”

 

Aleks laughs, breathy and warm, and his eyes crinkle shut just a little as he moves back from the hug. There's something scared in Schmidty's expression, but he has that naive look like he always does, and Aleks smiles at him- fond, full of love- as he says, “Not too late now, that's what I'm trying to say.”

 

“That you love me?”

 

“Yeah, Trev, that I love you.”

 

There's a pause, brief but not cold or unknown, just a pause. The left side of Schmidty's face is smiling, bright and like everything Aleks has been missing. It feels right, it feels like every crooked piece coming together, and Aleks wants to bathe in the heat of Trevor's gaze.

 

“Well, I love you.”

 

“Glad we're on the same page here.”

 

Trevor laughs, and it sounds like home.

**Author's Note:**

> jeez !!! this took,, too long but u can follow me on tumblr @ohgavins if u want if you'd like. and leave a comment if you feel like it. thanks sm for reading!!
> 
> \- rachel.


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